I would do everything for you Ashley
by Shykeiro
Summary: I've just tried something. Second story in english language. Sorry for the summary John is dying. Did Ashley will cry for him? CORRECTED


_Hello, it's me again._

_This is my second story in english language. I hope this one will have less mistakes than the other._

_It don't follow the original serie. It's just a guess of what should happen if at the end, Ashley and John was not anymore enemies._

_This one is for DZR. I hope you'll like it and sorry if you don't xD_

_I think my story is a little bit out, but good reading._

_STORY CORRECTED NOW xD Sorry for the mistakes, really..._

_Thanks to my beta-reader :) xD_

* * *

**I would do anything for you Ashley**

John Druitt looked at the sky, thinking and analyzing his life. His life which had been very long and with so many striking events. Some which were much more unpleasant than they first appeared to be. His souvenirs were nothing other than a pack of nightmares and remorse. Every time he looked behind him, he would just find worse and worse memories. Perhaps not his proposal of marriage. When he had seen the smile on Helens face, and when he kissed her, nothing would have been able to erase the enjoyment he felt that day. Nothing...until his misadventures. Nothing...up to Jack the Ripper. Then, his world collapsed, he died. He had been dead ever since he had injected the Source Blood.

And yet, he fought this curse with all of his strength, all his soul. Nothing could discourage him or make him move back. He wanted to control himself.

He still saw himself, taking a step, then another one, the glance fixed on his prey. Inside, he fought against the envy and the bloodthirstiness which he felt. In every hunt, every murder. This desire, this pleasure to kill destroyed him and made him suffer. It was so pleasant, so exhilarating, but so very abominable. He hammered his head with these thoughts, such dark thoughts. He had no control and that was the worst feeling he had ever known.

During his conversations with Watson, he tried many times to lead his friend towards the true answer, while trying not to say too much about it. It was not easy to be kind and nasty at once. The enemy and the friend. The lover and the murderer. Helen suffered a lot because of him. His fiancé, with whom he would have been able to live some happy days, she had to suffer for loving such a monster. Every time he thought of Helen, he felt guilty, dirty, soiled. As if this thing in his head pushed him to hurt everybody around him. But, like Helen said, to kill, it was necessary to be born with this bloodthirstiness latent in the genes.

Was he really responsible for all that, for all the acts he had committed? Partially. Certainly. And yet, he wanted to believe there were not only the thoughts of killer in him. That he had a conscious and a heart somewhere, there, deep in his soul. A place where remorse and sadness still existed.

The sky seemed so grey while he knew it to be blue. The day was beautiful at this spring's end. The sun shone strongly and even though he felt the heat, he found it flat and cold. Like as though veils blocked his sight. Veils of darkness.

As for the morning before his last victim. Horrible. Everywhere the sun shone, but he felt only the coolness of his heart and the indifference of his consciousness about the meaning of what he was doing. A shiver crossed him after this thought. A souvenir which was not the happiest. Who would doubtless haunt him till the end of his life. End who would come soon. He knew it. He felt it. He almost wished it. Like a prisoner who want to be free before his time.

He coughed, returning his thoughts to the harsh reality of things. His sight failed under a magnificent sky. He felt an invisible force restraining his chest. His breath was weak.

-Dad!

He blinked, turning his head with difficulty to the source of the noise. It was Ashley, her face flooded by tears, her hands trembling, squeezing his arm. When he thought of it, never before this day she would have called him daddy. Their relation had improved, yes, but too many things separated them. So she can't say this word easily. And yet, she used it, here, at the end of everything. His daughter...

-Ashley...

His hoarse voice was interrupted by a cough which caused him a terrible pain. Worse than all he had felt during his teleporting. Nothing could be compared with what he could feel in the inmost depths of his body.

He didn't see Helen, but he recognized the scent of her perfume. The scent of her soul. She was there, close to him, but not in his sight. The zone had been secured. They stayed for him. If Helen didn't move him, it was certainly because there was no more hope. He didn't know the scale of his wound, but he understood it was not mild. So...the end was coming.

He'd had a lot of wounds, had almost succumbed to many of them, but he always recovered, in good health, in good shape. He knew this time would be different. He would not return this time. It was his last adventure. He had done what must be done. Had not been allowed to deviate from this path. One of the rare things that he had not missed in his whole existence.

-Don't go...

Her voice...again. Her sweet voice which so reminded him of Helen. And yet their intonations were different. The mother was more neutral, wiser. Ashley had small voice which whipped better than a weapon when she was angry. She was regrettably like him, but she was the person he preferred and of whom he was the most proud. He had not just made errors or atrocities. He had also made wonderful things. His daughter was one of the better examples there. She was brave, intelligent, generous, kind and so confident. A woman who had lot of chances for a good life.

-We're all dying... He whispered, even though speaking caused him a lot of pain. Ashley put her hand on his own.

-Shhhh, don't talk, stay quiet. We will take care of you.

He saw her turn her head toward her mother, but didn't see the glance Helen send to her. She was certainly saying that he will not survive. He closed his eyes one moment.

All these years looking for family, hoping to return to normal, which henceforth could not happen anymore. He didn't feel his legs anymore. His brain became befuddled, his thoughts became vague. He had some difficulty breathing. Soon...

-Ashley...

She quickly turned to him, worried. He opened his eyes and met the tortured glance of his daughter. She seemed so choked. It was a very innocent thought, but he was almost happy to see her so sad. That proved to him he had taken, before the end, a small place in her heart. He raised his arm with difficulty and put his hand against Ashley's cheek, chasing away her tears. He could show his soft side now. No need to wear his mask. He liked his daughter. Why hide it? Even if he thought first of feeling nothing for her, he had discovered the link which bound him to her. He saw the link at work now in this park.

-Why have you done this? Ashley shouted suddenly, revealing the side he knew well. She was angry. Against him.

-I told you before Ashley..."I will do anything for you" he whispered weakly. He had a smile which seemed more like a grin.

-There's anything and then there's anything...she grumbled. He had a real smile this time.

He looked at her tenderly. Why did he have to die? He was almost about to regret it, but knew that his hour had come. He was not frightened. But there were so many things he wanted to catch up on. The regrets always strike back at the end of a life. He knew it very well. He had to make do with it henceforth. At least, he would have saved the life of his daughter before leaving. A last debt. A last move.

-You don't have the right to leave us...

He didn't answer. What could he say anyway? He coughed again, missed a breath and had a cramp which made him clench his teeth in uncommon pain. Horrible. Intolerable. He didn't feel his body nor his arms anymore. The arm he held in the air fell heavily onto his side. He tried to resist a little more. For Ashley.

-No...

He couldn't answer anymore, whether he wanted to or not. He could only look at her. He wanted to etch in his mind her face surrounded by her gold-colored hair, glittering with one thousand lights under the sun and taking on a shining aura. He gave her a last smile, then closed his eyes, feeling the life leave him. He shed just one tear, a fateful sign of all the things he had not achieved and of all those which he had not wanted to achieve.

He never saw Helen Magnus shed real tears of sadness while his body died slowly. He never saw both women hug each other for consolation. But, most of all, he never saw all the love they finally had for him, and had, through remorse, guilt, fear or insecurity, never had the chance to show it to him.

John Druitt went out surrounded by his family.

_Here lies Montague John Druitt, faithful to History and his family until the end._


End file.
